Love and Hate
by Ihaveexplodeyhead
Summary: Life seems to be going smoothly for the GG’s, but why are PoisonJam stirring things up, and who is this strange new girl that keeps following them around? RhythxYoYo, GumxBeat and maybe others…
1. Off to a bad start

I DO NOT OWN JSRF. Now I must go and beg at its creators' feet until they let me have it.

I DO own Fret/Aijou Daikirai (Her name literally translates from the Japanese as Love Hate :O)

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The purple-haired teen looked up at her father with absolute terror. Eyeliner had mixed with tears and run down her face, leaving dark black streaks. She coughed, before drawing a few sharp breaths, another teardrop balancing on her lower lid. It trickled down her face as she listened to her father's drunken screaming between swigs from a bottle containing some sort of white spirit. She couldn't make out what it was, but it was most likely vodka – it was what he drank the most.

Things hadn't always been like this. There had, in fact, been a time when they were all one big, happy family. But take a mother out of the equation, and things start to go downhill. The Daikirai's only child, Aijou, was the one to be hit the hardest. They were a close-knit family – Aijou was only five years old when her mother lost her battle with cancer.

Her grades plummeted, and she started skipping school. Eventually, she stopped going altogether. Although there was one thing that she could find solstice in. The feeling of the wind in her hair as she raced through the streets on her skates, a can of spray paint in her hand. It was the only way to work out all of the anger and frustration she had accumulated over the years since her mother died.

Coming back to the present, her father had downed the entire bottle and proceeded to smash it in half, holding one jagged end towards his daughter.

"STOP IT! Please…" she begged, gasping for air "You're frightening me…"

But he didn't stop. He lurched towards her with glazed eyes, the stench of alcohol heavy on his raspy breath. Aijou backed into the door, fumbling for the handle. Grabbing her skates, she ran out of the door, numb with fear.

And she kept on running.

"Come back here, you stupid little bitch!" she heard her father bark. But she had no intention of going back. Ever.

Stopping in front the derelict old train station, she put her skates on. She took her time – she knew she wasn't worth enough for her father to come after her. Getting up, she hugged herself a little. It was an unusually cold night in Rokkaku-dei-Heights.

Gliding through the station, afterthoughts started to set in. Where would she stay? What would she eat? No. She brushed the worries away – anything would have to be better than her previous home.

Ambling along, she really did feel the cold – her clothing wasn't exactly suitable for the weather. A short, pleated, tartan skirt hung about her waist, a white lacy petticoat lying underneath. A spiked metal belt was buckled loosely atop her skirt, the black leather shining in the dim light of the dying streetlamps. She wore a white top, torn at the neck and sleeves, and showing her midriff. This revealed two black swirls tattooed around her navel. Under her top she wore a long-sleeved fishnet vest, one sleeve being mesh and the other striped purple and black. Her hands were adorned by black, fingerless gloves, studs resting on the knuckles. A black and pink spiked dog-collar was fastened around her neck, as well as certain other necklaces, pendants and beads. Her unruly purple hair fell to just about below her hips, and was pulled back into messy bunches with two faded pink ribbons. She wore dated radio-headphones with two aerials, and a band going across the top of her head. Her socks didn't exactly match in with anything either – one was a fishnet suspender stocking, the other a thick woollen sock with black and purple stripes. Black knee-pads with decorative spikes were fastened around her legs.

Her skates were light purple with a motif resembling the twisted fret-board of a guitar painted in dark brown and silver. The wheels were hot pink, and two metal exhausts stuck out from the back.

Aijou looked up, finding herself next to the sewer. Skating a little way in, she curled up, shivering.

"I'll be alright…" she thought to herself "…nobody ever comes down here…"

Looking up at the filthy concrete ceiling, she finally managed to drift into an uneasy slumber.

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BAARGH! Sorry 'bout the long description peeps! It's just…there's so much to describe O.O If you're still baffled as to how Aijou looks, there's a picture of her on my DeviantART account (my username is Pyra-maniac)

R & R if you're feeling nice!


	2. Go

Well, what can I say? You don't know how happy I am to get such positive reviews – one in particular, from Tallulah. If it's alright with the rest of you, maybe I could go back to my original style of description and working things into the story, etc. You see, on other fan fiction sites, most of the reviews I got ran along the lines of: 'Leik, describe it all in one bit, cuz leik itz teww spaced out and stuff and Its stupid' or 'I dun unduhstand her story cuz itz confuzin an I dun get it so why didn't yew explain it all now?!?!?!!!!111oneeleven!!!' I'm not sure whether I just had a bad experience with readers, or you're just really exceptional people, but whatever the cause, just know that you've made my week! So, I'm not quite sure how to thank you, but I drew a picture dedicated to you all – it was the only thing I could think of! You can find the link to in my bio page here – I hope you like! Who is she insulting? Is it Hayashi? Or maybe the narrow minded reviewers of the world? I'll leave that one up to you…; )

And KoochiZibble, in answer to your questions – things will play out in time. The last was just an introductory chapter. Things will be explained in eventually, don't worry. I know you may not like the angsty factor in this fic, but it's not going to be a constant thing, I assure you. I like to write about all things in proportion. This fic isn't about a ridiculously talented rudie who is better than everybody else and yet is instantly accepted, neither is it about a depressed and angsty teen who cuts herself to ribbons and is on the verge of suicide. It's just a story that I hope you'll enjoy.

I don't own Jet Set Radio Future, neither do I own a shiny, expensive guitar. I DO, however, own Fret/ Aijou and a somewhat banged up Ibanez.

Now then, ENOUGH TALK! On with the fic. ExplodeyHead out.

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Dreams slowly filtered into reality, and the sound of the river, thick with sewage, reached the ears of Aijou. She was about to open her eyes when she heard voices. No…not voices. Not exactly…they were more like grunts. A few words she caught occasionally, but as to the grunting, she was completely lost.

"Who is it?" one of the voices barked. This was followed by another incomprehensible bout of grunting and the sound of skates on concrete.

"What?"

"Look"

After a few more grunts, it seemed the strangers had come to a conclusion. Aijou felt the tip of a skate dig hard into her back as one of them kicked her. Eyes flying open, she shot up, only to crash back down onto her elbows from toppling on her skates. She yelped in pain, dragging herself backwards.

"What do you want? This is _our_ turf" said a noxious looking teen, who seemed almost…reptilian.

"I…well…I uhh…" Aijou tried to think up a good excuse, but her mind was adamant to stay blank "I needed a place to stay…so I…well…umm…"

"We don't want you here"

"But…I…I promise I won't get in your way"

"We don't want you here" he repeated, his temper starting to simmer

"Well…what if we had a tag battle? The three of you against me? If you win then I won't bother you again"

This sent the three sewer-dwellers into roars of coarse laughter "_You_ think you can beat _us_?!"

"Well…I…"

"Fine little girl. Just tell us your name so we can tell every rudie in town how much you suck after we beat you"

"Aijou"

"We won't forget to say how _stupid_ your name is either"

"Oh. You mean _that_ name…then it's Fret"

"Pfft…it's still stupid"

"Whatever…can we just get going?" she asked, trying her best to keep her mounting annoyance hidden. If it had been Hayashi, then all hell would break loose. But when dealing with three enormous guys who looked like the spawn of Godzilla, she guessed it was probably best to keep her mouth shut, no matter how rude or annoying they might be.

The one who had been throwing insults at her was now rummaging through his gigantic pockets. Fret had made a guess as to him being leader of the group. It wasn't like he looked any different from the other two – he just seemed to have that arrogant attitude that the other two lacked.

He skated closer, snorting in distaste. Even though his face was hidden by a mask, she could feel his glare on her. He thrust a dirty yellow spraycan into her hands, grunting a little "Get ready to lose"

Biting her lip, she skated back along to the stairs. Jumping onto the metal rail, she really had to push herself to keep the upward grind going. Getting off at the top, she wobbled a little on her skates – after all, she'd just been kicked in the back by a giant lizard on skates.

The other three landed behind her, skating ahead and throwing dust up behind them. Fret coughed before muttering some sort of profanity under her breath. She caught up with them on the second level of housing.

"Ready loser?"

Fret simply gave him a sideways glance.

"Go."

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::blink:: Yeah. Tune in next time…or something to that effect.

::wanders off::


End file.
